Outside Perspectives
by Mia1211
Summary: HarmMac story through the eyes of a bystander.
1. The ring

Disclaimer: Not mine. What a shame.

This is my first try at anything longer than Christmas greating cards. So be gentle. I try to be good :-)

I've been working at the jewelry store since I was fifteen. Every weekend for the past ten years you could find me there. I like working there. It's not a great place to meet guys, that's for sure. A guy who buys jewelry is either gay, or it's for his girlfriend. And those who buy at our place are either very comfortable situated with money, or madly in love.

One of my responsibilities is to decorate the window. Maybe eight years ago I was again redecorating when this guy walked past. Somehow his eyes got caught by our newest piece of jewelry. It really was a dream, an engagement-ring. The kind you dream of having on your own finger. Even at seventeen. Anyway, you could actually see this guy shaking his head and forcing himself to get on his way again. I put the ring in the center of the arangement I was making, the top spot.

One week later, the same guy stops again at our window, starring at the ring. I remembered him because once again, he was wearing his white uniform. Nice. Anyway, he stops for a few minutes, dreamy look on his face and all, then walks away again. Next Saturday, the same. He came every Saturday. Sometimes he didn't come for a weekend or two. I think his job probably required quite an amount of travelling.

Once, I redecorated the window again, without the engagement ring. He actually came into the store to ask if it was sold. Next weekend the ring was again in the window. Whenever I redecorated it, I payed attention to leave the ring somewhere visiable.

I began to speculate about that guy. He actually came by almost every weekend to take a look at an engagement ring and not do anything about it? First I thought it might be the money. The ring might be a dream, but it still cost a small fortune. Probably the reason why it was still not sold. The money could have been a really good reason not to buy it. However, there are two things which didn't fit with that theory.

First, we are the kind of store which don't have price tags in our window. He couldn't have known the price. And he never asked. A guy who wants to buy something, but doesn't know the exact price is going to ask for it. It might just be that the ring is a bit cheaper than thought, you know?

And second, once I saw him window shooping with a woman. She was the kind of high maintainance woman. Blond. I always pictured him with a brunette. Maybe because my hair is brown, too.

Anyway, money couldn't have been it. Especially because a few weeks later, he came by and actually bought the ring. That dream engagement ring everybody wants to have. I was a bit disappointed because I didn't like the woman I saw him with.

He came in and just said: "I want it, Ma'am."

He called me Ma'am. I mean I was eighteen at the time, but still looked young enough to go for fifteen.

So I got the ring out of the window, put it on a blue velvet pillow and but it on the counter for inspection. He almost touched it, but not quite. He just stared at it. After a while I thought it best to remind him that he was actually going to buy it, and not just look at it.

"Do you want it sized, sir?"  
He just looked at me dumbfonded.

"I think you girlfriend probably has size 4, sir."  
I was just trying to be helpful. At his questioning look I explain.

"I saw you a couple of weeks back with her walking past our store, sir."

"Oh, Renee. It's not for her. Don't size it."

It's not for his girlfriend? I mean, no one kisses his sister or a relative that way. Or maybe she's not his girlfriend. Oh, that leaves an affair? No way. The person who gets the dream ring has no boyfriend who has an affair. Now there I was really reluctant to sell the ring. It had to be for someone worth it. Good thing my boss wasn't there at the moment, or I probably would have been fired.

That guy saw my reluctance and somehow guessed what my problem was. Man, he should be a cop or investigator or something. I am not that easily read, so people tell me.

"We broke up a couple of days ago. She said I wasn't faithfull to her. That I had someone else on my mind."  
"And?" I couldn't help but ask.

"I am buying that ring, Ma'am."

I couldn't help but smile. I was extra carefull placing the ring in the box, still grinning like an idiot, though trying to hide it. He paid with a credit card, never asking about the price. That's true love, if you can afford it.

"Sir?"  
He was almost already out of the door, but turned back to look at me once again.

"You can always come back to us to size it. Once you asked her, I mean. Bring your fiancee with you. A ring which fits good on her would work, too." I hated to add that. I really wanted to meet that woman.

"Sizing won't cost you extra if you bought the ring here, sir."

He just nodded and walked out the door. I took a look at the credit card receit. Harmon Rabb Jr. Weird name.

He didn't come back for almost four years. Every once in a while I saw him walking past our window, avoiding to take a look. I hoped the ring had fit or that he went somewhere else for the sizing.

I knew better though. That the ring fit would have been very unlikely. And people often came back to the store where they bought the engagement ring to buy wedding rings. Especially to our store. We still made the rings ourself, giving each one character and originality. Couples came back to look for the same in their weeding rings. I knew that he never asked her.

Than one day, he returned. He walked into our store with some woman on his arm. Ok, a beautifull woman, dark longish hair, dark eyes which sparkled with life and happiness. They made a couple you looked twice at.

Carefully, he put the dream ring down on a blue velvet pillow.

"You said to bring my fiancee with me to size the ring properly."

Was that really the same woman through all these years? My romantic heart definitely hoped so. Once again an idiotic smile threatened to break my face into half. Now, he actually smiled back. Wow, and it took them eight years or more to get it right? We sized the ring and they actually looked for wedding bands. Good taste, both of them. I really started to like the woman. She was worth it, to wear the dream ring I mean.

One funny thing happened before they left. He looked at me and said:  
"You've grown up."  
I could just incredulously stare back at him. And than it just went out of my mouth.

"When? During the last eight years you've been looking at the ring, or during the last three and a half since you bought it?"

Instead of being angry or insulted, he just gave me a funny smile. His fiancee rolled her eyes and they left, teasing each other good naturedly.


	2. The crib

Disclaimer: See part one

Thanks to Karen and Arian, my two brand new betas. They are the best. Fast, honest and great email pen pals.

* * *

The first day I met them was actually my first day on the job. I had no idea about furniture, bottles, clothes or anything else we sell at our store. I had been so nervous I kept near the bathrooms. I had already lost my breakfast twice that morning. It was doubtful I would last through the day.

Now with hindsight, I know I shouldn't have worried. Our customers either have even less knowledge than I did at that time, or are so hormone driven that they don't care. I also know that there is always an exception to the rule.

My very first customer was a young man. He came straight up to me, started to ask a question about a stroller, just to stop midsentence to leave for the men's room. I thought he had eaten something bad. Now I know that he was probably a first time father.

My second customer was a woman in her mid-thirties. She asked me where she would find booties. I had no idea and was about to tell her so, when she discovered them herself. Second aisle to the right. And off she was, buying a present for somebody she knew. No way was that woman a mother. She just screamed career woman, no signs of any mother instinct. Yet.

My third customer was a young couple. It was as obvious as a red stop sign that she was very pregnant. My first thought at that time was: 'Note to myself: where is the nearest phone to call an ambulance in case she pops?' Second thought: 'What do I know about first aid and playing midwife? Nothing! Second note to myself: rent movies where women have babies on the road.' They never noticed that I was of so little help. They were just plain happy. That was the couple who convinced me to stay put till after lunch.

And during lunch I met my fourth customer(s). They were the kind of couple who always make me a little bit sad. They just walk through the aisles, holding hands as if their happiness depended on it. The worst part is the longing in their eyes. The wishfull stroke over a pair of onesies, the hidden movement to wisk away a tear that dared to escape. The knowledge that their wishes might not come true. They were that kind of couple. They left soon after they came. The woman's military uniform showed clearly that she was definitely not pregnant.

They came back though. A couple of months later. Now they cruised through the isles holding hands, their happiness pouring from their faces. By now I had a bit more experience judging people in baby stores, and this couple had the most expressive eyes. They didn't talk much. They were touching a lot, either holding hands, or, when forced to walk behind each other, one of them would touch the other's back. As often as they could, they stared into each other's eyes, forgetting the world around them. So much that he almost walked into a crib, before becoming aware of his suroundings again.

She didn't show yet, but there were clear signs. Her longing look at a coffee cup being held by another customer. Her dead sprint to the bathroom after smelling some food through an opened door. His proud grin at hearing someone retching in the lady's room. Only expectant fathers are happy to hear their partners throwing up. He knew enough though to wipe the smile of his face once she reappeared, showing sincere concern. She just waved away his concern, saying something to which he replied with a mind blowing smile. Good thing I was holding onto the display rack.

You could often see them coming during the lunch hour. Mostly together, sometimes alone, always just to look. Soon, she was showing, and then later it was hard to miss that she was pregnant. The time came when I had to eye her critically, the location of the phone, and the fastest route to it, always in the back of my mind. And yet, they were still just looking, not buying anything.

And then they bought one onesy. One single onesy, the smallest pack of diapers, and that was it. Nothing more. And the baby was definitley ready to enter the world.

It was also then that I noticed her engagement ring. She was resting her hand comfortably on her large stomach, involuntary showing off her ring. It was the kind of ring everyone dreams of having on her own finger. I only knew of one store where they still make that kind of ring here in D.C. A good friend has been working there forever.

She was born on a Friday, December the 13th. On the night of the worst first winter blizzard Washington D.C. had ever seen. I know because I had to fight my way through mountains of snow to get to work. My boss didn't believe in closing because of a 'little bit' of snow. There wasn't a single customer all day long.

I was ready to close up for the day when I saw him getting out of his car. I opened the door once he was close enough. I had to lean with all my weight into it to force it shut, the wind was blowing so heavily. No sooner was that accomplished than I knew there was new daddy standing infront of me.

He appeared to be scared to death, insanely happy and utterly overwhelmed with his emotions.

"Congratulations, sir."

He flashed that awesome grin of his in my direction, beaming with pride. 

"A girl or a boy?"

"A girl. Sarah Anna Mackenzie Rabb. Sam for short. 22.5 inches and 9 pounds."

That was quite big for a baby. Looking at the tall man infront of me, I chose to belive it.

"When was she born?"

"10 hours, seven minutes and..." here his eyes flashed to the tall grandfather clock we have in our store, "43 seconds." 

What a day to be born. In the mother of all storms.

"Why are you here today, sir?"

"We don't have much baby stuff at home." Guess what, you have to buy the stuff, not just look at it.  
"What do you need?"  
I expected a shoulder shrug, at best a very incomplete list of the things really needed. 

"Okay, diapers, lots of them. Some onesies, but we already have a few from our friends. Baby wipes, powder, lotion, shampoo, thermometer and carseat. Ten bottles with this special kind of nipple. A couple of pacifiers. A breast pump, I wrote the brand down my wife wants to use. I think that is all."

Trying to be helpful I supplied some missing pieces. "You need a crib, sir, and a stroller." "We already have a stroller, office gift. And we definitley don't need a crib." "How so?" "I made one myself." 

Now I was impressed. The guy knew what to buy, thought about almost everything and even made a crib all by himself? Wow, too sad he was already taken. Working in a babystore is not a place to meet eligible men.

"What about formula?"

"My wife is breast feeding. The bottles are just there so that I can take over some late night wake up calls. Hence the pump." 

Too good to be true.

"Why didn't you buy the basic stuff before the birth?"  
Damn, my curiosity is going to kill me one day.

"Friends of ours lost their baby during delivery. We both didn't want to come back to a house full of baby stuff in such a case. My wife had a difficult pregnancy. And we want to buy stuff for a person who is already here. We didn't know the sex so we decided to do most of the shopping later."

With a baby that size, that was a smart decision. They could jump straight to clothes for two month old babies. 

"The most important thing, though, was, that I wanted to surprise my wife with the crib."

As I already said, too good to be true.

We got everything he had listed on his mental shopping list. When he bent over to sign the credit card receipt, I saw a Polaroid picture tucked into his breast pocket. He noticed my eyes on it and pulled it out. The loving look on his face melted my heart while he looked at the picture before showing it to me. Piercing blue eyes looked back at me from the picture. A mass of dark hair was showing under a white little hat. Everything else was tucked away in the fluffiest blue blanket you could imagine. It was one of the cutest babies I have ever seen. And you get to see lots of babies working in a baby store.

As I said, it was just too good to be true.


	3. Rock Creek Park

Disclaimer: You really think they are mine? Me too. We are the only persons suffering under that delusion, though. Too bad.

Thanks again to Arian and Karen. Together they find most, if not all, the mistakes I make with the English language. If someones says, languages are logical, he or she is worse delusional than I am. If you don't like the story though, complain to me, off the list.

Thanks to NavyCB for the formatting tip. Also thanks to those who review. It's great encouragement.

* * *

If someone would write to me, the address on the envelope would be something like this:

Rock Creek Park

Second park bench on the long jogging trail

East entrance

However, there is no one who would ever dream of writing to me. There hasn't been for as long as I can remember. The memories I have are fragmented, and cover only the last few years I have lived.

I know that I am frightened in the dark, that's why I choose to live in the underbrush behind the second park bench, where there is a street light near by. I know I am terrified by loud sounds. I hate the 4th of July and New Years Eve with all the fireworks.

I also know I love children.

The happiest days of my life are during the summer, when parents take their children out to play in the park. I keep in the shadows, never coming near the children, dreading to draw attention to myself.

'Always keep in the shadows. Never let anyone see where you are. You do, you die.'

The mantra is so loud in my head, I put my hands over my ears, trying to stop it. It won't work, it never does. So I try to stay away as far as possible and still see something.

A day is good when I see children smile and hear them laugh.

The winter is the worst. The cold is always present and I am never warm. I try to get to the Salvation Army's office every day to warm up and eat some soup. Sometimes, I am so cold I can't get up. Then I just try to stay awake. I don't want to die yet. I want to see another child smile.

Christmas comes and goes. No children are outside to play in the snow. Actually, it's probably more mud than snow now. There was a wonderfull blizard in the second week of December. I was frightened by the cold, but the storm was beautiful. The snow soon melted, though, and now there is just wet mud with a bit of snow in between.

They say there is supposed to be more snow to come soon. I hope I survive this winter. I already survived New Year's Eve. Now I only wish to see a happy child again. Just one more time.

The snow has stopped falling now. It started sometime last night. It got so cold, I thought I wouldn't live to see the morning. Now it's already past noon, and I can hear children playing somewhere near by. I am so cold though, I can't get up to watch them.

Then I hear baby laughter. You can't mistake it for anything else, the happy gurgling noise. I struggle to sit up one more time.

I can see a couple walking past, very slowly. A tall dark haired man and a beautiful dark haired woman. They look so happy, watching their child take in its surroundings, walking arm in arm.

The father carries his baby in a snuggly, securely wrapped in his large coat. You can also see a blue fluffy blanket wrapped around the baby. Dark hair shows a little under a warm hat.

The parents don't see me, they just have eyes for each other and their baby, though the baby's piercing blue eyes look in my direction. A hand struggles free from under the blanket and waves in my direction. A smile and happy baby laughter are directed at me. The last thing I see is the mother reaching up to tuck the hand back into the blanket, protecting her baby from the cold.

Yesterday morning, the park warden of Rock Creek Park found yet another homeless person who was a victim of the latest blizard. The man couldn't yet be identified. Officials hope that the Veteran's office of the Navy might be of help. Among the few possessions found with the man, were several medals and ribbons, indicating that the owner served as a Seal in the Vietnam War.


	4. The test

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. I still only borrow them. Sadly.

Thanks to Karen and Arian, as always.

* * *

„Harm, let's take a test, ok?"

Suspicious, Harm looked up from the file he was working on. Mac was sprawled on his sofa staring holes in the air. Or so he thought. Maybe she was just thinking up new ways to torture him. Like only dressing in one of his shirts, making it almost impossible for him to work on this damn file.

"What kind of test?" He didn't like the sound of it.

"Dr. McCool gave it to me. It has to do with association. You know, I say a word and you answer with whatever pops into your head. We went through my test and she explained my responses to me. I just would like to do it with you. Maybe we can make sense of your answers together, and if not, I will take it to McCool with me."

Always ready to help Mac deal with her issues, Harm agreed to do it. At least it was no Cosmopolitan test on his faithfullness. Mac copied the words from her own test on a new sheet of paper, and gave it to him.

Harm looked at the first word and had to smile. Maybe this wasn't going to be half bad.

A few minutes later, Harm looked up again, only to see Mac sitting on the edge of the sofa, obviously awaiting his test result anxiously. Handing her the sheet of paper, Harm leaned back in his chair to watch her response.

Mac looked at the answers, only to get slightly angry after noticing that they were all the same, except for the first three.

Not quite able to hide the hurt in her voice, Mac looked at Harm. "I thought you would take it seriously, not make fun of me."

"Aww Mac, I wasn't making fun of you. I honestly wrote down the first thing popping into my head when I read the word."

"But the answers are all the same!"

"I have a one track mind. Can you blame me? Why don't we go through it anyway, maybe I can clear some things up for you." Harm came over to sit next to her on the couch.

"Ok, the first word was sex."

"Yeah, my answer was 'best I ever had'. I think that's self-explanatory."

"Is it true?" At his confused look, she elaborated. "Is it true that the sex we have is the best you ever had?"

Harm gave her a glance that made her toes curl. "Definitley, want me to show it to you?"

"Later," Mac whispered, trying to get back to the test results.

"The second word was love. You answered: 'reason for #1'. I don't get it."

"Honey, although we are great in bed, I think it's actually because we love each other, and are madly in love with each other, that my answer to number one was 'the best I ever had'. I'm sure you've heard that making love and having sex are two different worlds altogether?"

"Oh, ok. Now we get to where your answers stop to make any sense. You answer to 'red' was Mac. What do I have to do with red?"

"Red reminded me of the red dress you wore last weekend. Or the set of lace underwear you have in red. Or your lips after I kiss them. See, red – Mac."

Swallowing hard, Mac gave him a shy, insecure smile. Turning her attention back to the sheet of paper, she got the idea about all his other answers.

"Morning"

"'Sarah', I love to wake up next to you, especially when you are sleeping. There is no trace of the hard, gungho Marine yet, there is just Sarah."

"Time"

"'Mac', every watch I see reminds me of you, your ability to tell time. And everytime I take a look at my watch, I calculate how long until I have you again all by myself, until I can kiss you."

"Girl."

"'Sarah'. I want a girl who looks just like you, but without all the pain and bad memories shining through her eyes. I want to give our daughter the childhood you never had, and maybe replace your memories with her experiences."

"Home"

"'You', I feel at home when you are near by."

Harm leaned forward, kissing away the tears running down her cheeks. Slowly, Mac turned her head, searching for his lips with her own, only to receive the most tender kiss she ever had. Holding tight onto Harm, she let him draw her onto his lap, both sitting on the couch, staying curled up for a long time.

No one noticed that the sheet of paper by now had landed on the floor. A last ray of sunlight lit it up, enough to read some more.

'Happiness – Mac

Future – Sarah

Marriage – will you?'


	5. The shoes

Disclaimer: Has anything changed till the last time I posted something? No? So I guess they are still owned by someone else than me.

A/N 1: Thank you again Karen and Arian. I look forward to every email I get from you, knowing you just betaed another story of mine with all the right encouragment everyone needs. The only thing better is to get one of your stories by mail, or on Voy, having the chance to return the same ego boosters I get.

So thanks to everyone else, too, who reviews one of my little babies. I always try to return the same kind of encouragement.

A/N 2: I know this doesn't really fit in the series 'Outside Perspective'. There isn't someone observing them like with the others. But still, there is the reader who has an outside perspective on a private moment. See, I can twist things around until I can make them fit the way I want.

* * *

He loved her with all of his heart. It was the scariest feeling he had ever felt. Someone having such a complete hold on his heart was not exactly new, but there had only ever been one other person who could do that to him.

He loved the way she smiled. The sounds she made when he kissed her belly. He loved her feet, which were always dressed in the most comfortable shoes he could find. Her perfect hands, which held his whole world although they were so small.

He loved her eyes. The way they never let go of his own in the middle of the night, when they were both awake, just like right now. Her long lashes framing her eyes, protecting them. Or how a tear was caught by them, like a liquid diamond.

He loved her mouth, the way it moved when she was awake. The way it was opened just a tiny little bit when she slept.

He loved to watch her falling asleep. Her eyelids dropping, becoming so heavy she couldn't hold them up anymore, although she still didn't want to break eye contact. The way her breathing deepened, becoming calmer. A last sigh before she fell back into dreamland.

"Sleep tight. Dream happy. I love you Sarah." His whispered voice was a caress, washing over her face and keeping any nightmares at bay.

"Harm?" Harm looked up to see the other person who held his whole heart standing in the doorway. His other Sarah.

"Ssshhhh. She just fell asleep."

"Harm, Sam has been asleep for the last 30 minutes. It only takes her 14 minutes to finish her bottle and you've been up an hour. Come back to bed."

"Yeah. I just want to hold her a little bit longer. To make sure she really is asleep."

Sarah Rabb went to sit on her husband's lap, grabbing a blanket to wrap around both of them and their daughter. The night was chilly, but she was warm enough in his arms.

She hadn't thought it possible to fall even more in love than she already was when he asked her to marry him. She knew better when she gave birth to their first child, Sarah Anna MacKenzie Rabb.

The day she and Sam were released from the hospital, Harm had shown up with two pair of identical shoes. They were made of the softest leather with white wool inside. They were more slippers than shoes. She wore them only inside the house, like right now.

However, Harm showed up with them and put them on Sam's feet.

"For my little girl. I only want you to wear the most comfortable shoes there are. But please wait with number two on your mom's list. And don't even think about coming home with any man for the next thirty years. At least."


End file.
